


Healer Feelgood

by TobermorianSass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Original Character(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:59:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobermorianSass/pseuds/TobermorianSass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an alternate universe where Regulus Black doesn't die after stealing Riddle's Horcrux, but instead goes on to form the highly successful wizarding wrock band, The Thriambics. This is the story of how one of their hit singles came to be written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healer Feelgood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EssayOfThoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/gifts).



> Definitely NOT a reference to Motley Crue's Dr. Feelgood.

Leslie skimmed over the song handed to zir and whistled, “Personal experience, Regs?”

Regulus Arcturus Black, better known by his stage name, Ophion ‘Tommy’ Foxx, grinned at Leslie Shaw, “Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Les.”

“I could have sworn it was  _ladies_ ,” Leslie Shaw murmured, “The third floor incident?”

There was less impishness in Regulus’ grin, and more fond memory, “He was very obliging.”

* * *

Healer -  _Feelgood_ , he’d dubbed him, well there  _was_ a name, but names were beneath him besides being altogether bad for his public image as callous rock prodigy - smiled like a  _shark_. And that, in retrospect, was probably the problem.

It made him look hungry -  _predatory_  - the kind of hunger that strips and appraises slowly before acknowledging the sheer ferocity of desire underlying it. The kind of hunger that made the room feel four sizes too small and two degrees too warm. Suffocating. Made Regulus shift uneasily -  _restlessly_ ,  _dream, tumultous_. Something Regulus hadn’t felt in ages; wanting hunger that made him press his legs together, unconsciously; something callous rock prodigies never felt because all they had to do to satisfy that hunger was  _glance_.

For all his years of practice, his sultry glances and delicate arching of his neck won him nothing but amused smiles as though he was a  _child_  playing a game he did not understand.

It was a game of watching. Fingertips lightly skating over his arm, taking his pulse and a smile that let him  _know_. Hands earnestly feeling their way up and down his leg, long  _fingers_ ,  _firm_ and  _warm_  and questions, so  _harmless_  - only the smile giving him away.  _Predatory_.

“You’ll have to take care, of course,” says Healer  _Feelgood_ , “But I see no reason why your  _friends_ can’t collect you tomorrow.”

“Ah,” says Regulus, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to differ in our diagnoses here.”

“Really?” the Healer’s voice is dry and not a little amused.

“I’m afraid my  _malaise_ is a little harder to cure,” Regulus answers, “Much more than a broken leg.”

“A  _malaise_ that’s hard to cure.”

“Yes,” Regulus nods, “Requires careful atttention.”

“Hmm,” the Healer gently runs his fingers along Regulus’ calf, “Higher up, I presume? The bone  _is_ fully healed.”

Regulus swallows, “Not an affliction of the bone.”

“Fancy that,” long fingers trace the inside of Regulus’ knee and then his thigh and Regulus bites his lip.

“It’s barely noticeable,” Regulus murmurs, a few moments later, “But niggling.” _Light touch. Circles. Thumb rubbing circles_ , “A long term affliction,” he says through his teeth.

“A long term affliction?” says the Healer, “Nothing to do with being wrock and wroll’s golden son, hmmm?”

“No,” Regulus replies, a bit too quickly, then tilts his head and smiles charmingly at the tall Healer, “I need -  _oh_.”

 _Fingers. Warm. Firm._ Gently rubbing circles in the hollow of his hip bones.

“You need?” the Healer prompts him.  _Low._ No expression on his face, except for the curious tilt of his eyebrows. Fingers gently tracing the curve of his hip, down to the inside of his thigh.

“Help,” Regulus whispers solemnly, fingers toying with the openings of the Healer’s robes, “Very badly.”

“And you’re sure this, er, affliction of yours, is entirely physical,” the Healer murmurs, his hands still wandering over Regulus’ skin, now moving steadily higher, over his hips, to his stomach, “Not, um, a metaphysical affliction of the heart or soul, for example?”

Regulus shivers at the touch of his hands on his lower abdomen, but shakes his head, “You’ve heard the songs. Heart’s too afflicted to be cured. The physical, however,” he laughs silently, “I’m sure you know all about the physical.”

_Lips curling and teeth. Hungry._

“Well. If you put it so delicately,” says the Healer and Regulus makes a small noise at the sudden cold, “How can I refuse?”

He locks the door to the private room Regulus had managed to snag for himself by some very careful backroom dealing on the part of his manager with the management of St Mungo’s -  _can’t expose him to the public eye, can’t have people poking around, utmost discretion &c&c _\- and removes his outer robes, casually letting them slide to the floor.

Regulus swallows as he comes closer and then runs his thumb along Regulus’ throat, tilting Regulus’ head up.

“Do all your, mm,  _fans_  come to you this easily?” Healer Feelgood asks him, roughly toying at Regulus’ lips with his thumb.  _That savage smile_  - at the way Regulus parts his lips and flicks his tongue against the Healer’s thumb.

“Much easier,” Regulus replies, attempting to sound cheery and casual, but his voice rather a little too breathy to be  _really_ casual. “But then -  _oh_.”

 _Smile. Savage._ Long fingers brushing his long hair away from his shoulders, searching for the strings that fastened the hospital robes and then roughly pushing him on to his side, so they can undo his hospital robes.

“You might tell me your name first.”

“Get up,” the Healer says, “You know my name,”  _warm breath. Mouth. Shoulder._ Regulus shudders.  _Warm hands. Shoulders,_ “But then you know everyone by name, you merely have to live down to your image, don’t you?”

“I don’t live  _down_  to anything,” says Regulus petulantly, “ _Oh_.”  _Warm hands. Cold air._ His hospital robes slide off him, leaving him exposed.

“Of course,” the Healer replies amiably.

“You don’t -  _ow_.”

_Hands. Hair._

Regulus glares up at the taller man, still smiling as his hand twists in Regulus’ long hair, forcing him to look up at him.

“Shhh,” he says and then kisses Regulus.

“Okay,” Regulus says breathlessly, some time later, twisting around so he can face the Healer, “Okay -  _oh, fuck, Audley_.”

 _Long fingers. Firm. Warm. Stroking._ Regulus clutches helplessly at the other man’s thin muslin shirt.

“I thought I was _Feelgood_?” the Healer mouths in Regulus’ ear, meditatively rubbing his thumb in circles around the head of Regulus’ cock.

“Uhhh,” Regulus replies, eloquently.

“Charles. Charles Audley. But please. Call me Charles,” he strokes Regulus tentatively, then when Regulus’ eyes slowly shut, a little more firmly.

“Well,  _Charles_  -  _oh_  - why don’t  _you_ ,” the hand on his cock tightens and speeds up, “ _Yes - fuck - yes_  -  _shut - ah - up - faster - you_  -”

_Warm. Mouth. Smiling. Savage. Hand pumping. Breath, ear, tongue, teeth, pain. Yes. Yes._

Regulus’ nails dig hard into Healer Audley’s arm and Audley smiles, wide and savage and delighted.

 _Teeth scraping against stubble. Tongue_. Half-licking, half biting a trail down his neck and then biting hard on his collarbone, rough fingertips stroking fast and hard and his hips bucking in response and thrusting, unable to stop himself, thrusting into Audley’s hand.  _Laughing. Kiss. Wet and sloppy and hungry and the coppery taste of blood_.

“You’re a little shit,” Audley whispers, roughly jerking Regulus’ head up by his hair, “You know,” his other hand jerks Regulus’ length furiously, “Assuming I’d be ready for a fuck with wrock and wroll’s golden son.”

“Yet here we are,” Regulus gasps, “ _Fuck - oh - fuck - Cha-_.”

“Yet here we are,” Audley agrees, watching the way Regulus’ head falls back and the myriad little expressions that pass over his face – the little moan that turns into something between a gasp and a sob as he spurts into Audley’s hand, “But where?”

Regulus opens his eyes, slowly and laughs. Silently. He takes Audley’s come-splattered hand and slowly licks it,  _far too slowly, much too slowly,_ lingering, _lingering_ , mouth slowly widening into a grin at the way Audley’s eyes darkens at the sight.

“Dunno,” he replies, then, drawing the Healer closer by his waist, “Does it matter?” He undoes the zip on Audley’s trousers and pulls his smallclothes down, “Wherever you want.”

He drops to his knees and licks the inside of Audley’s thigh.

“Don’t overthink it,” he says wisely, “If I’d done, I wouldn’t be on my knees sucking you off. Press’d have a field day.”

Charles Audley, Healer at St Mungo’s, throws his head back and laughs, then moans when Regulus takes him in his mouth and sucks in earnest.

* * *

“S’pose that’s what all the extra appointments were for, then,” said Leslie, levitating the sheaf of papers back across the room to Regulus.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Regulus replied, “He was a very good Healer.”

“Bad at metaphysics though.”

“If he’d done, we’d all be out of business Les.”

“How does he feel about the song, then?”

Regulus leaned back and closed his eyes, “I can be very convincing when I choose.”

* * *

“No.”

“Charles,” Regulus gently but firmly propels him along towards the nearest broom cupboard, holding his elbow, “Let’s talk this over like grown-ups, shall we?”

“In a broom cupboard, Foxx?”

“Tommy,  _please_. We're past formalities, don't you think?”

“That was  _before_  you decided to write a  _song_ about us and sell it to the whole world, _Merlin’s_   _beard_ , how d’you think I’m going to look my colleagues in the eye -”

Regulus kisses him, “Overthinking,” he said, then kisses Audley again, “You keep doing that Charles, it’s a bad habit,” and again, running his tongue over Audley’s bottom lip, “Trust me, all right?” He kisses him a third time, hard and fierce, drawing blood and this time Audley moans and tilts his head, opening his mouth, tongue sliding against Regulus’. He tightens his grip on Regulus’ waist and draws him closer.

“I hate you,” he says, breathless, against Regulus’ jaw as Regulus unbuttons his trousers.

“Yes," Regulus answers with equanimity, sinking down to his knees, "But you love my mouth." 

“ _Huhhh_. This is a bad idea and you’re talking me into  _\- ah_  - this -  _fucking_  - with your - _oh_  -  _fucking_ \- with your - your  _mouth_  - dis -  _ah_ -  _disgusting_  - I’m not -  _oh - fuck_ -” he whines and then hastily slaps his hand to his mouth as Regulus’ swirls his tongue around the head of his cock, then sucks, “ _I’m -_ I won’t - hnnn - be _bought_ \- ah -  _yes_  -  _no_ -  _fuck_  - your  _mouth_ -  _fuck - Merlin - fuck - I’m - I’m_  -”

Regulus sits back and licks his lips, watching the way Charles’ neck arches, skin slick with sweat and veins standing out, throbbing, “So you’ll do it.”

Charles Audley, still panting, looks down at Regulus, “I want half the sales.”

“Wouldn’t dream of giving you anything less, darling,” Regulus kisses the inside of his thigh and Charles groans, burying his hands in Regulus’ hair.

* * *

 

“Convincing,” said Leslie drily, “Of course.”

“Yes,” said Regulus, ignoring the obvious insinuation, “He’s even visiting this weekend. Problem with my spine, y’know. Hasn’t been the same since I fell out the window.”

Leslie rolled zir eyes.

* * *

 

“On a - a -  _ah_ \- scale of ten to ten,” Regulus pants, digging his nails into Audley’s shoulder, “was this a good idea or -  _fuck_ \- was it a good idea?”

“Not,  _ha_ , much  _choice_ ,  _nnng_ , you’re giving me there,” Audley says between his teeth, thrusting into Regulus, “Are you?”

Regulus laughs and bites his jaw, then his neck.

Charles Audley has to admit though, Tommy Foxx, half-naked and writhing with a mike stand between his thighs, his chest glistening and long hair dripping with sweat, belting out the lyrics to  _Healer Feelgood_  is a sight that makes him wish this wasn’t just a quickie in the loos backstage.

“Disgusting,” he hisses, as Regulus arches up against him and digs his nails viciously into his back.

“Filth,” Regulus replies, “I’m not fucking china.”

Charles Audley slams hard into him and Regulus’ groans, arching even further, not noticing the way the mirror behind him slides off his hook as a result.

They both wince when it falls to the ground and shatters and Audley stops thrusting for a moment, before Regulus bites him impatiently, “ _Fuck me_.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” says Audley, steadying himself against the wall and holding Regulus’ waist with the other, “ _Fuck.”_

“ _Well_?  _Ahhh_ ” Regulus moans, “ _Well_?”

“Best,” Audley murmurs, trying desperately to phrase sentences through the misty-haze now upon him, “Fantastic. Never been better.”

Regulus starts to laugh, “Love -  _oh - fuck - fuck_ ,” he groans and presses harder against Audley, body seizing up and  _white, white, hot, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Audley comes with a low cry a few seconds later and Regulus kisses him sloppily.

“We should fix the mirror,” he says, once they’ve stopped panting, “Don’t want you to really have to heal me.”

“Right,” Audley mumbles against his shoulder, “Last shag and all that.”

* * *

 

“Definitely don’t need to,” Leslie Shaw winced at the sound of glass shattering that came from the loo, “Check on Foxx.”

“Clearly,” said Ion Strangefate, plucking idly at the strings of his bass guitar while trying to ignore the thumping noises that had been growing steadily louder for the past ten minutes, “Healer Feelgood seems to be doing an excellent job checking up on him.”

“Well at the very least,” Mick Travers said, presently, breaking the uncomfortable voyeuristic silence they’re all subjected to, “We’re not liars.”

Ion Strangefate rolled his eyes, even as Leslie Shaw raised zir glass of champagne and said, “To factually accurate songs.”

All three of them primly looked down at the ground at the loud keening sound that followed.


End file.
